


Beyond Reasonable Doubt

by TracyLorde



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Lawyers, Rival Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 03:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15015413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TracyLorde/pseuds/TracyLorde
Summary: Clarke's had a healthy rivalry with Bellamy Blake since law school. Everything has been fair and above board, more or less, until Clarke accidentally crosses the line.





	Beyond Reasonable Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr prompt for my AMM celebration from the lovely @granger--danger!
> 
> Multiple legal details are entirely impossible or improbable for plot reasons.

“Your honor well knows that I am just as susceptible to the charms of the prosecution as the next person–”

Clarke fought the urge to roll her eyes. She knew neither Judge Pike nor the jury would appreciate it. 

“–But the fact remains that their argument falls flat when it comes to motive. There is no clear line of reasoning to explain…”

Clarke adjusted the collar of her suit jacket and glanced over at Wells, her co-counsel, who was keyed in on the jury. Emori, their investigator, had told them they definitely had four jury members convinced, but Bellamy had five. The remaining three were wild cards. 

The judge gave them their final instructions, and the jurors shuffled from the room. 

Clarke dashed downstairs to grab a cup of coffee and of course ran into Bellamy Blake. 

Clarke had known Bellamy for years. They’d been rivals since law school, and having remained in the same city upon graduation, naturally began to work for competing firms. 

They’d never been on bad terms, exactly, however much they’d enjoyed arguing. They were very nearly friends when they were in school. They’d run in similar social circles, took many of the same classes, and occasionally studied together. There had been a moment senior year when Clarke had been certain they were going to develop into something more than they were, but then Bellamy had shied away, and Clarke had shrugged it off, and the two of them remained at an impasse. 

There was nothing shy about him now.

“Worried, Griffin?”

Clarke was free to roll her eyes now as much as she liked, and she took advantage of it. “Please. Your closing was as unconvincing as the rest of the case you argued. You’re not going to win this one, Blake.”

Bellamy poured a splash of cream into his coffee and passed her the carafe. 

“No, I think I am.”

Clarke rolled her eyes again, but accepted the carafe from him and filled her cup to the brim.

“Still taking a little bit of coffee with your cream, I see.”

“Shut up,” Clarke pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she took a sip, “I don’t have time to wait for it to cool down.”

“Bellamy, the jury’s back.”

Clarke turned to see Echo, the investigator for Bellamy’s firm, gesturing towards the stairs. 

“Shit, that didn’t take long,” Bellamy murmured, snapping the lid on his coffee cup.

Not sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign, Clarke gulped down as much of her coffee as she could and sped past Bellamy and Echo to the courtroom. She narrowly avoided spilling the rest of her drink down the front of her pants, but caught herself just in time, chucked the remainder in the bin outside the doors, and joined Wells.

Emori was seated just behind them, wearing her uniform of a leather jacket and heeled boots and clutching the notepad Clarke knew indicated the verdict before it was handed down. Clarke leaned back to whisper,

“What do you think?”

Emori shook her head, and Clarke’s heart sunk. Emori was rarely wrong, and this just confirmed what Clarke had been trying to push to the back of her mind all day. They were going to lose.

Twelve times she’d gone up against Bellamy Blake, and until now they had been evenly matched. This was going to push him over into the winner’s column until their next opposition.

She was going to have to do something about that.

—

“Hey have you seen the—“  
****

Clarke’s head shot up from the desk where it had been laying a minute earlier, fingertips pressed to her temples as she stared at her computer.

“Oh, shit—you ok?” Emori asked, stepping into Clarke’s office and gently closing the door behind her.

“Yeah, fine,” Clarke said ruefully. “Just hit a rough patch in the Maynard case. I think I need to change gears and let my brain work it out in the background.” Her eyes lit up. “You don’t have the results from the ballistics expert, do you?”

“No, not yet,” Emori shook her head. “Jaha sent me here to ask if you’d send over what you have on that firm Cadogan, Pramheda & Associates. ”

“Yeah, sure. No problem. Is he thinking of a merger, or scoping out the competition?”

“Who knows,” Emori shrugged. “Hey, I heard something through the grapevine today you might be interested in. You were looking for new clients?”

Clarke had turned back to her desktop, but immediately perked up at that phrase.

“Whatcha got for me?”

Emori took a seat, eyes twinkling. “Well, I know you like to spar with that lawyer from Kane & Cartwig, Bellamy Blake—“

Clarke snorted. Despite the inter office gossip that she and Bellamy were an item, since school they’d never met but in a professional context. She couldn’t help it that sparks occasionally flew when they faced off.

“I don’t mind demolishing him in court every so often. Why, he going up against us on the Peters case or something?”

“Nope, I just heard one of his clients is dissatisfied with his work at the moment. Thought you might want to give her a call.”

Clarke leaned back in her chair, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Big case?”

“Not particularly. She runs a shelter of some kind, and they experienced a cybersecurity breach. She’s suing the security firm they hired.”

“Not exactly my forte,” Clarke said wryly.

“Better you than Bellamy Blake. Besides,” Emori added with a sly smile, “That’s why you have me.”

Clarke laughed. “And that’s why you’re my favorite, Emori. Name?”

“Luna Morgan. Sending her contact info to you now.”

“I’ll give her a call.”

The conversation was quick, and by the end Clarke had secured a meeting with her new client the next morning. She spent the night reading up on cybersecurity cases.

She thought how nice it would be when she and Bellamy finally squared off again to know that she’d stolen a client from right under his nose. It couldn’t have been easier, honestly.

—-

Luna’s case was pretty cut and dry, in the end. The offending security firm offered an acceptable settlement very quickly. The shelter Luna ran took in women and children from domestic abuse backgrounds, so it wouldn’t exactly have been great PR for the defendant if they’d gone to trial.

The winnings weren’t huge, but the satisfaction of taking the client from Bellamy, combined with the assurance of Luna’s business in future, was more than Clarke needed to feel satisfied with the outcome.

—

It was Friday, and Clarke had had a good week. When she had good weeks, she liked to go on dates. She always had her best dates when she’d just won a case or a settlement. This time, it was just some guy she’d met on Bumble, but he was attractive enough and seemed vaguely Clarke’s type.

Clarke changed into a sleek black dress at the office and touched up her makeup. She was on her way to the bar her date had suggested when she ran into Wells in the lobby.

“You’re just getting back from the deposition now? Yikes. I’ve got to run, but call me later?”

Wells nodded, silent. Something in his expression unsettled Clarke.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just—“

“What? Tell me!”

Wells hesitated, shaking his head, then—

“Did you poach a client from Bellamy Blake while his sister was in the hospital?”

Clarke’s jaw dropped. “Did I what?”

Wells repeated the question, and Clarke’s face went white.

“I had no idea…Emori told me she heard Luna was unhappy with her representation, so I called her…oh my god…”

Wells filled her in on what had happened.

Bellamy Blake's sister, who Clarke had never met, worked as a cop. She’d been involved in a shoot out last week—Clarke had heard vague news about it. There had been one civilian casualty and two cops injured. Octavia had been the first one on the scene, and she’d sustained pretty a serious gunshot wound.

“She’s stable now, from what I’ve heard. Monty told me, his boyfriend consults for Bellamy’s firm.”

“Oh my god…I’m such an asshole. I can’t believe…”

“You didn’t know,” Wells said simply, placing comforting hand on her shoulder. “He probably would have done the same in your shoes. But…I thought you’d want the full story.”

“Fuck…Wells, what should I do? Send flowers? Or food?”

“That sounds nice, but I don’t think that’s necessary…hey, are you ok?”

“Of course I’m not ok! I can’t believe I kicked him when he was down like that.”

“Hey, Clarke, you didn’t mean…”

“Which hospital is she at?”

“St Agnes Memorial, I think—“

Wells hadn’t finished his sentence before Clarke turned on her heel and sped out of the lobby.

She googled Bellamy’s sister while she was in the cab on her way to the hospital…Octavia. Octavia Blake. No way Bellamy didn’t have anything to do with that, she thought. He’s always struck her as the guy whose hotness masked what a complete and utter nerd he was. His law school email signature had included a quote from Ovid, for heaven’s sake.

Octavia Blake had been moved from intensive care to a room in the surgical wing earlier that day. Visiting hours were almost over, the nurse at the desk told Clarke, but she had twenty minutes if she wanted to see if Octavia was awake.

Armed with a half formed apology, Clarke made her way up to Octavia’s room on the fourth floor.

She might not have been able to pick Octavia out of a lineup as Bellamy’s sister except for her strong jawline and a definite sense she was just as stubborn as her brother.

Octavia had long dark hair that lay loose over her shoulders, bright green eyes, and a very bored expression. Her left arm was bandaged, and it looked to Clarke as though she’s been shot in the shoulder. Just a few inches further down, and the bullet could have been fatal.

Clarke paused stock still in the doorway, suddenly very aware that she had no clear plan, particularly one that didn’t involve Bellamy.

“Hi…who are you?”

Clarke flushed and stepped forward, pushing the persistently unruly lock of hair behind her ear.

“Octavia, we haven’t met—“

“Nope.”

“You don’t know me, but I’m a friend of your brother’s—“

“That’s putting it generously.”

The voice from behind Clarke, though familiar, startled her. Clarke turned to see Bellamy wearing an oddly smug expression on his face and holding two cups of jello.

“Bellamy—“

“Griffin.”

He sidled past her and took a seat next to the bed.

“Cherry or lime?”

“Ew, cherry you weirdo. Who likes lime?”

Bellamy shrugged, handed his sister the red cup, and broke into the green one himself.

As if in sync, both siblings turned their attention back to Clarke.

“So, we’re friends now, are we?” Bellamy said, almost pleasantly. “Because here I thought we had a decent rivalry going on—“

“We did! But I just heard what happened to your sister—“

“Hi,” Octavia waved from the bed. “Octavia. We still haven’t met.”

Clarke flushed a still deeper shade, but forced herself to offer a hand to Bellamy’s sister.

“Clarke Griffin. I’ve known your brother about five years, since law school—“

“Six, but who’s counting—“ Bellamy murmured.

Clarke did her best to ignore him and focus on Octavia. “I’m so sorry to hear about your accident—incident—the shooting—“

Bellamy and his sister exchanged a look over their jello cups. Clarke could have found it in her to be infuriated if she hadn’t been so embarrassed.

“Yeah, it’s alright. I’ll be outta here before you know it, but this kinda shit comes with the job. What doesn’t kill you…” Octavia trailed off, almost cheerfully.

“I’m really sorry, I just came here to make sure you were doing alright, and tell you if there’s anything I can do, _anything_ , please let me know.”

“I’m ok, really. Nice of you to check in…and nice to meet you.”

Clarke nodded, fishing in her purse. “Yeah, it was nice to meet you too. Here’s my card, and I mean it…if you need anything.”

Octavia shot Bellamy an amused look.

“Bellamy,” Clarke pointed to the hallway, “do you have a minute?”

“I guess so. I think visiting hours are about over anyway.” He ruffled Octavia’s hair gently and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “See you tomorrow for that game of battleship?”

“I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Sure.”

Bellamy waltzed out of the room, hands in his pockets. Clarke waved goodbye to Octavia and followed him out a few yards down the hall.

“So, you’re feeling guilty, huh?” he called behind him.

“Bellamy,” Clarke jogged to catch up with him, which was difficult considering the shoes she was wearing, “you have to believe me, if I’d known—“

Bellamy stopped to lean casually against the wall and cross his arms over his chest.

“I never in a million years would have tried to poach your client, I swear—“

“Well, it’s not like you had to try hard.”

“What?”

“I was pretty distracted with my sister getting shot and all—“

Clarke drew a ragged breath. He was clearly amused at worst, and his sister wasn’t in any danger any more, but she couldn’t say anything of the sort without looking like even more of a monster.

“Yes, you were,” she replied through gritted teeth. “And I can’t apologize enough. I asked Wells if I should send flowers, he said no—“

“Too bad, we’re fresh outta Calla lilies.”

Clarke closed her eyes briefly, and continued. “And I thought about sending food over, but I didn’t know if your sister had any allergies—“

“Just penicillin and good taste.”

“And then on the way up I almost stopped at the gift shop, but honestly there’s nothing more depressing than a hospital gift shop—“

“I don’t know, this one has a fine selection of stuffed bears—“

“Oh my god Bellamy, will you shut up and let me apologize?”

Bellamy burst out laughing. Clarke’s timing remained impeccable, her eyes welling up with tears.

“Hey, hey, hey….it’s ok,” he was steering her towards a couch at the end of the hall. “I’m just giving you a hard time, sorry.”

“It’s perfectly within your rights,” Clarke groaned, dabbing at her eyes. “Fuck…you’re an asshole too, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” Bellamy said mildly.

“Feel better now?”

“Yeah. You?”

“A little.” She sighed and smoothed the skirt of her dress over her knees, doing her best to distract herself from the impending awkwardness.

Bellamy was seated right next to her, one arm thrown over the back of the couch, his eyes closely watching her, his mouth curved into a slight smile.

She hadn't been near enough to count the freckles on his face in years, but she could have now.

“You’re a little overdressed, you know.”

Clarke snorted. “I know. I didn’t plan to come here tonight.”

“Missing out on a hot date?” he asked, almost convincingly casual.

“Not really,” Clarke admitted. “I mean, they seemed hot, but boring, so…”

“So you thought you’d upgrade,” Bellamy grinned.

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh. His charm was infectious. It had always gotten under her skin in court, but now, sitting so close together, so vulnerable with him…it was different.

“I forgot you had a sister.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t waste much time thinking about me these days.”

Clarke ignored him and pressed on. “It must have been awful, when you got the call. I…I’ve been there.”

Bellamy nodded, and she knew he remembered how her dad had passed away during their first year of law school.

“I know.” His brown eyes were close and sincere. “I really do appreciate you coming down here.”

He placed a reassuring hand on her back, and Clarke’s breath caught in her throat. She’s always known what to say to him, but now she was struggling for the right words.

“And you don’t need to feel bad, really,” Bellamy continued. “Cybersecurity is not exactly an area I excel in, I was thinking of referring Luna to another lawyer anyway.” He shrugged. “You just saved me the trouble.”

Clarke shook her head. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

Clarke sighed. “Well, I should probably get out of your hair.”

He shrugged again. “If you want. Or…”

Clarke bit her lip. “Yes?”

“You missed out on your plans for the evening to check on O, you could let me make it up to you.”

A smile tugged at her mouth. “And how exactly would you do that?”

“We hit up the bar across the street. See where the night takes us.”

“It’s not going to take us far, I have a deposition at 8:00am.”

Bellamy smirked. “I can work with that.”

He jogged to the elevator and held the door open for her.

“You look really nice, by the way. I didn’t know you owned anything other than pantsuits. Nothing against your pantsuits, I promise…they’re great pantsuits. It’s just refreshing to see you in something other than—“

Clarke waited for the elevator door to close before she turned and kissed him. “Please, I beg you, stop saying pantsuits.”

She could feel Bellamy’s lips curl into a grin as he kissed her back. “Whatever the hell you want.”

He brushed that pesky lock of hair behind her ear, and a pleasant shiver ran down her spine.

Clarke wasn’t going to miss her deposition the next morning, but she was prepared to cut it awfully close.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated <3
> 
> Find me on [tumblr!](https://tracylorde.tumblr.com)


End file.
